AmeriWhat!

Welcome to 2008, and to my newest incarnation on the Mississippi Gulf Coast: Gulf Coast GringAmericorps! Nyuk nyuk nyuk.

The funny part is, I really will be the gringa this year, as I will be working as an Americorps member at a start-up (read: 4 staff people including me) non-profit that seeks to bridge the gap in social services to the local Latino population as well as to change the hearts & minds of the wider community about immigration issues. The organization where I'll be working, alias The Big P, will have an immigration clinic, a homeless day center with showers & laundry facilities, a day labor-contractor meet-up program, a computer lab, and a space for Bible study & church services in Spanish. We will also continue to conduct our ESL classes, but in our new roomy quarters on the East side of town. We move in tomorrow--yessss!!!

This all sounds ambitious, and it is--that's part of the reason I'm so psyched to work here, that and the fabulous justice warrior ladies who are my coworkers, and the amazing people we serve, and the beautiful Spanish language we'll be speaking, etc. We don't yet have all our funding secured, we need office furniture, we're scrounging for grants, computers, curriculum materials, and appliances, and we have salary gaps. But we are all driven by a passion to do as much as we can with and for the Latino community on the Coast, a community facing both a severe shortage of resources and intense local resistance, both due to the explosion in the Latino population since Katrina.

Before the storm, there were virtually no Latinos on the Coast, and thus no social services or communal centers geared towards Spanish speakers or folks of Latin cultural descent. Now, as a result of a boom in the construction and service industries coinciding with a decrease in the indigenous workforce, 25-35,000 Latino immigrants, some documented, some undocumented*, have come to the area, and the tension with the pre-storm community--white, black, and otherwise--is a big problem. Abuse & exploitation abound in the form of unsafe working conditions, paycheck withholding, police harassment, and racially-motivated beatings; those lucky enough to escape such injustices often encounter seemingly insurmountable barriers in their efforts to lead normal, dignified lives--the inability to find healthcare professionals or social workers with whom they are able to communicate, the lack of opportunity to learn English, the loss of familiar support systems upon their arrival in the United States.

This is where The Big P steps in--we accompany individuals on doctor's visits and court appointments, provide casework consultations, represent immigrants during the visa and citizenship application processes, host dinner dances, festivals, and health fairs which build solidarity within the community, teach English, and provide spiritual counseling and fellowship. Amazing, no?

I am so very excited and graced to be on the cutting edge of justice work here on the Coast--and even more excited about becoming part of a new community.

*"Undocumented immigrant" is the correct term for an immigrant who is in the United States without proper documentation. "Illegal alien," "Illegals," "aliens," etc. are offensive terms for human beings who are our brothers and sisters; no human being is "illegal."

Here are a few fun photos from Americorps orientation, which was my life this past week. From now on I'm gonna be run ragged, folks, but that's the way I like it--I'm rarin' to go!!!

Orientation, Day 3 (or 4 maybe?? It all runs together...) Check out the cool t-shirts from past volunteers festooning the walls.

That's my back (in the white shirt and tan pants)--we're installing subflooring to keep the moisture-prone OSB from coming into contact with the new tile flooring. I definitely have the blisters to prove it.

Photo scavenger hunt (we were the first team finished and the only team to find all the clues, plus the bonuses!!)

More Americorps/The Big P fun to follow.

Update!

Check out the photos added to "House Party"--they increase the post's cuteness 100-fold.

Also, take a look at the marathon post--nothin' like a sweaty marathoner!

Finally, as a year-end treat, here is a photo montage of the past nine months on the Coast. Enjoy!

I single-handedly hold up the state welcome sign on my first trip to Alabama.

Dormant Mardi Gras float in Ocean Springs awaiting 2008's festivities (in which I will FINALLY get to participate!!)

Leah & Dal in The FEMA Hilton (aka my house before it was finished)

The Hair Cut!!! SOOO short!!

Can you say line-dancing? With awful posture no less...

Leah accompanies Kate's interpretation of "Old Latin ballroom dancer woos unsuspecting young thing whilst kneeling in a Mash t-shirt" (performance art on our front porch)

Horseshoe crab on the Carolina shore during Thanksgiving--thanks Dad!

My Sistah et Moi tickling the ivories at our Grandma's over Christmas

A Merry 2008 to all and to all a GOOD NIGHT.

Last but not Least

Although this weekend was my last here at the Mish, it many ways it was similar to all the others I’ve spent here. I woke up at 7 this morning to see off the volunteers who have toiled all week to bring Gulf Coast families that much closer to reclaiming their homes. This week’s group, from Pennsylvania Dutch country, had left behind bags of gently used work clothes and sleeping bags, which I hauled over to the food pantry at the office. Then at 7:45 a friend picked me up and we drove to a nearby Habitat for Humanity site, where we spent the morning installing windows and nailing down tar paper alongside the soon-to-be homeowner Miss Laverna and her granddaughters. Picture all of us humming along to Christmas carols on the radio as we sweat in the 75 degree, 90% humidity air—utterly disorienting for a native Midwesterner!

At noon I headed back home for leftovers from last night’s staff Christmas dinner, then spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning the house for the long-term volunteers who will replace me in January. As I write this, I am dog-sitting for some Floridians stationed at the local Air Force base; tonight we’ll all get together for some more good food and a few games of bean-bag toss, an Ohio favorite imported to the Coast by volunteers from Cincinnati. Tomorrow morning will find me worshipping at an Episcopal church, since there are no UCC congregations down here, and after church I’ll head back to the office to help put together Christmas baskets for our clients. Then I’ll try to catch a few hours of the Bears game and work on some lesson prep for the ESL class I teach to local Spanish-speakers—part of my new job helping to open a Latino community center next year—before welcoming this coming week’s group of volunteers from Texas.

Looking back on these past 9 months, I realize how often I’ve been swept away by the enthusiasm and grace volunteers bring to their work; how much I’ve learned about client casework and the realities of low-income and homeless living; how surprised I’ve been by the peculiarities of, and my own preconceptions about, the South—and most of all, how much I’ve learned about faith. Thinking about the moments of transformation I’ve witnessed—when a client’s needs are met beyond all their expectations, or when tears well up in a volunteer’s eyes as he or she reflects on a week of service—I can’t help but know that God is here laboring through the hands and hearts of our staff and volunteers, and working in the hearts and minds of our clients, homeowners, and local community members as well. It has been an absolute joy and privilege for me to be a part of this, and I will miss it deeply.
Your prayers and good wishes for the people of the Gulf Coast over the holiday season and into a new year filled with uncertainty—and hope—are truly appreciated.

Wishing you a Christmas of joy and a year of rebirth and rebuilding in the new Christ Child (after all, Jesus was a carpenter!),
Leah

She Did It, Folks!

As some of you may know, I have been training for a marathon for the last, oh, eternity...I mean, 6 months. Last Saturday, in Huntsville, AL, I ran it.

Before: After:

My roommate and my mom don't think I look any worse for wear... but let me tell you, it took 3 days of recovery just to be able to walk without bowing my legs out like a pregnant lady (thanks to The Sister for that image). It became a very serious game to avoid the slightest unnecessary use of any and all affected muscles--like Hot Lava, but painful. Ouch.

It was, of course, totally worth it--and although around mile 18 I was yelling "This SUCKS!!" to innocent bystanders and grouching at my sister* to meet me with SOME kind of sustenance at the next aid station, 30 minutes after the race was over I began planning when I would be able to do another marathon and strategizing about how to trim down my time. Given the lamentable state of my joints post-race, however, I think I'll stick to half-marathons and 10Ks from now on.

Interesting Marathon Factoids:

-The guy who ran the first marathon back in ancient Greece ran only 24 miles, and then dropped dead. When they held the first modern marathon in the 19th century, the sadistic Brits added the last 2.2 miles we now know and love (aka THE worst part of the race, where you want nothing more than to STOP. RUNNING. NOW. NOW!!!!). The reason? They wanted to end at a nice little castle in the area, which happened to be 26.2 miles from the start instead of the original 24. Stupid Brits.

-Best running outfit: Mr. Incredible (a runner dressed as the movie character in spandex and mask and gloves--really!)

-Best marathon t-shirt slogan: "18 weeks ago I thought this was a good idea."

-Best bystander: blonde woman in a dirndl playing "You Are My Sunshine" and 80s rock anthems on an accordion, on roller skates. I kid you not.

Training for the race helped me realize that I have a stubborn (masochistic?) streak that pushes me to finish my given mileage no matter how hard it is or how much I think I can't do it--this is empowering, but not if it makes you almost collapse during mile 7 of a training run when it's 85 degrees out and 90% humidity and you're scouring the sidewalk for change so you can buy an orange at the grocery store on your route because you forgot to eat something halfway through your run.

Therefore, I also learned how to take care of my body during training and how to establish a training rhythm, which is a very satisfying process. Conditioning your body to do something insane shows you just how incredible these fleshly vessels are. And the calf muscle defintion--good heavens!!!

After the race I was on a constant emotional high for the next week. (Omnipresent Christmas chocolate may also have contributed to this state of euphoria.) What a cool unexpected perk of nearly running yourself to death!

*Special thanks, ETERNAL sisterly thanks, go to my Wonderful Sister, without whose diligent and enthusiastic presence at every other aid station with food, drinks, encouragement, and concern, I .simply. would not have made it. She is an incredible person and I cannot imagine anyone else with whom I would rather have shared this experience. It was a team effort!!

House Party

Q: What do you do with an antsy 7-year-old who's just spilled glitter all over your desk in an attempt to glamourize your marathon training plan?

A: Take him on a field trip.

OPERATION "KEEP A 7-YR-OLD OCCUPIED":

Agents:
-Leah (aka Volunteer Coordinator)
and
-Number Five, Leah's sidekick (aka 7-year-old son of our Community Empowerment Advocate)
Mission:
Document "after" photos of Ms. Pat's house (90+ year old client with a heart of gold and some rad sunglasses)

Equipment:
-2 digital cameras (for documentation)
-Oreo crisp snack pack (for nourishment)

Mission Background:
Ms. Pat's house, when we began working on it in July, was covered in moldery old siding and graced by grimy, fungus-infested awnings. A crew of teenagers from my hometown (Chitown holla!) came in and destroyed the old siding. Folks from Michigan scoured down the awnings with pressure hoses, bleach, and scrapers, then painted them. Another group reattached the awnings and installed new flooring and cabinets, and a final group painted the whole house and trimmed out the windows and floors. Contractors installed appliances, hooked up the electricity, and connected the plumbing to the refurbished kitchen and bath.

Mission Report:
Number Five and I entered the target by means of a lock box on the front door, taking care to keep the new floors clean. We snapped several photos of the inside and outside of the house, attracting the attention of Ms. Pat (who is currently living across the street) in the process. We spoke with Ms. Pat about her new house. Analysis: homeowner is on Cloud 9 and should be moving in next week.
We exited the premises and Number Five, a budding combination lock prodigy, locked up the house and replaced the keys in the lockbox with no help from the person 3 and 2/7 times his age. Did I mention he made videos of our excursion? And figured out that people have to
As LisafMh of feministmormonhousewives.org would say, "Color me impressed."

Post-Mission Status Report:
Contractor has been called in to address remaining minor electrical inspection details; 7-year-old has new career prospects in locksmithing, or perhaps AV tech support. And we spent ample time inspecting bayou critters and playing at the park on the way home. Client gets her house back, I get my "after" photos, Number Five spins himself sick on the merry-go-round--everyone's happy.


The End.

A Little Piece of Heaven

Last Thursday was a little piece of heaven. I told a work crew, whom I was dropping off at their site in the AM, that I would pick them up around twelve to bring them back to their trailers for lunch. "Oh, hey,” they said, “Steve [a homeowner client on another site] invited us all over for gumbo, why don't you just take us over there and join us!"

“Well, okay.” Big grin.

It was a perfect fall day (the first, really, we'd had at that point--crisp in the morning and warm and sunny by noon), and the whole crew of drywall-dust-smudged volunteers, plus some hangers-on (me) sat around on plastic chairs underneath the house* eating homemade gumbo, Steve's hospitality spread out before us like an expansive picnic blanket.

Steve is what I like to think of as the best-possible-scenario client--unlike many of our clients who are elderly, disabled, working multiple jobs or unable to face the strain of 2+ years of hurricane aftermath, he is physical & emotionally able to work on his house with our volunteers as they replace siding, put in new flooring, trim out windows, etc. One night he stayed up past dark with a spotlight trained on the floor of a tiny closet as he pieced together leftover bits of laminate flooring, determined not to waste any usable material. Our volunteers, who are (understandably) disappointed when homeowners can't, or don't, come to visit their work-in-progress homes on a regular basis, are thrilled with people like Steve. When a homeowner makes an appearance, checking in once or twice a day--or, even better, works side-by-side with the volunteers--it becomes an infinitely more personal and meaningful experience. Suddenly it's not just a house they're working on, but a home. Big difference.

As his 90-something-year-old mother, Miss Sarah, made sure everyone had enough to eat (and more), and his dogs, Stinky and Belle, begged for Halloween-themed cookie crumbs, I chatted with a family friend who works at a local casino. She told me how she's living with Steve and his mother right now because she can't find affordable rent, and how the ladies who come into the spa where she works routinely marvel at the "cheap," $3,000-a-month rent for condos down here. “If I were paying that much for rent, I wouldn’t be able to eat!” she exclaimed. Good thing she has friends like Steve.

I don't know if it was the weather, the food, or the fellowship that made me the happiest--but it just felt like a taste of kingdom come. Houseless and kitchen-less, a regular guy lays out a simple feast on his front lawn for a group of strangers who have come, in the face of so much injustice, to help him recapture a little “just”-ness in his life.

Tell me this place ain't somethin' to behold.

*Steve's house is raised up on stilts in compliance with FEMA flood regulations.

Christmas in October

My good friend Rachael has come down to the Coast to volunteer for 2 months--she sold her car, broke her lease on her apartment, and rode a bus over 900 miles to get here! She has one of the toughest jobs at our non-profit--she works directly with clients giving out food, clothing, bus passes, hygiene kits, sack lunches, and other necessities, which means that she deals on a daily basis with desperate situations, hopelessness, heartache, substance abuse & mental health issues, and abrasive attitudes. She's really been a godsend--we'd be tearing out our hair if it weren't for all she does as the "gatekeeper" of our organization!

Rachael is also my role model for green-ness--environmental stewardship--and this year she's crafted a beautiful Christmas letter to send out to her family and friends in preparation for the holiday season. Read on, and check out the Green Xmas tips on the post below! --Leah

"Let me be one of the first to wish you “Merry Christmas 2007!” Yes, I know that you’re probably sifting through Halloween candy as you read this and, at best, envisioning the turkey and mashed potatoes that await you in several weeks. Christmas probably isn’t the first thing on your mind. But as you head into the upcoming holiday season, I wanted to share a few thoughts with you that might help to enlighten and enrich your Christmas experience this year.

The amazing book I read earlier this year Serve God, Save the Planet by Matthew Sleeth really challenged me to evaluate my habits and lifestyle in relationship to my faith. I came to fully understand why eco-stewardship is such a crucial part of following Jesus’ call to love our neighbors. Furthermore, Sleeth’s book helped to open my eyes to my multitudes of blessings and reminded me of the Bible’s position on giving to those in need and fighting for justice for the weak and oppressed. Being on the Gulf Coast has humbled me immensely and allowed me to understand the importance of the little things I take for granted on a daily basis.

As Christians we are oftentimes inundated with portraits of the poor and told how lucky we are to have things as simple as food, clothing, and shelter. Yet, though Jesus reminds us that the poor are among us, we are insulated enough not to really have to confront that fact, at least on a regular basis. In the hustle and bustle of our daily lives we are not often conscious of the suffering our brothers and sisters are enduring all around us. When we are hungry, we head to the fridge. When we are cold, we grab a sweater. When we are tired, we climb into bed. Too often it is easy to forget how all around us people struggle to secure even one of these basic needs every single day.

So where do my Christmas tidings fit into all of this? Well, as I began to understand the breadth of my many gifts, I started to assess the nature of holiday gift giving in general. I began to ask myself, “What do I really need for Christmas this year?” And while visions of proverbial “sugar plums” danced through my head, I quickly recognized that while I certainly would love a new camera or cute winter sweater, there was nothing I could say I truly needed. The images of the people I served daily here in Mississippi began to fill my mind, and before I knew it I was rid of those silly dancing sugar plums.

Christmas is a holiday commemorating the greatest gift we could ever receive: the love and grace of Jesus Christ. We give gifts each year to symbolize this gift and those that the Magi joyfully brought to the baby Jesus. Giving gifts to one another as a sign of love, joy, and peace is a wonderful part of our contemporary Christmas tradition. Yet, I had to ask myself, “Do I really need a new bath set or gift card to commemorate the birth of my savior?” Furthermore, when there are those who hope to fill the bellies of their crying babies, soothe their aching feet, or find a respite from the cold on Christmas Day, isn’t there a better way to honor and celebrate His life and teachings?

So, this year, in honor of Jesus’ birthday, I have a different kind of Christmas list for all of you. I would like food, clothing, and shelter for those who need it. How can you do that? Well, each week we turn away hundreds of people who need help with the basic necessities of life because there simply aren’t enough resources for them. Instead of buying me a present this Christmas, you have a wonderful opportunity to honor Jesus and his call to love your brothers and sisters in the Gulf Coast region by making a gift to the organizations where I work*. The joy and relief you can provide for them is far better than any present you could ever buy for me!

Furthermore, I lovingly challenge you to evaluate your own holiday gift giving. I know I certainly have drawers full of gifts I have barely touched. Are there people in your life that are so difficult to buy for you always end up just resorting to something impersonal or unnecessary? Think instead of donating to a charity that means something to them! Do you have items you could give to a mission in your area? Do you have a free Saturday to volunteer your time? The best gift we could ever receive was Jesus’ unfailing love. In turn, the best gift we can ever give is to love our neighbors, each and every one: especially the ones it is easy to forget about it amidst the chaos of our contemporary commercial Christmas.

…with tidings of comfort and joy… --Rachael"